


The Only Nice Guy in Las Vegas

by Missy



Category: Burn Notice, Reno: 911!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hooker, Angst, F/M, Hooker AU, Longing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:45:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some johns just stick with you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Nice Guy in Las Vegas

**Author's Note:**

> Written For Ladies Bingo, squares: Magical Healing Cock/Vagina; Hooker AU.

Here’s something nobody will ever tell you about hooking; it gets boring. And I’m not talking about how dull it is to jerk off the same guy two nights in a row without so much as a ‘please’ or a ‘thank you’, I’m talking about the same positions, the same comments, the same yanks and tugs and pulls and squirts and ‘oh baby you’re so wet for me’s’. Some of them will never get that I haven’t been wet for a man in over ten years. I don’t feel guilty about it. The washer and the stove belong to me; this bed we lay on is all mine.

After ten years on the job, I’ve seen everything. The highs and the lows, the ups and the downs. When you come after me during my shift, I’m ready to put off yet another high-class so and so who just wants a date for the night.

But you’re different from the rest of them. You’re nice. You listen when I talk. You pay for my drink and you light up my joint for me; you’re wearing a suit, and you smell of good cologne. You have the kind of manners a guy practices at charm school, and the kind of smile every male model would gladly pay for.

We don’t get to the motel room right away. Instead you take me to the movies, and we watch a stupid romantic comedy where a bunch of teenagers giggle and strut around, empty of head and empty of further belief and dreams. When you make out, you mean it – your tongue is a scorcher, burning away the memories, the wasted years. We’re both way too old for the game we’re playing, but you don’t care. I don’t notice your bald spot until you mention it, and you laugh when I point to the stretch marks on my breasts.

You care about me – as much as any john cares for any hooker while they’re in them. You take a little time, and when I wince you slow down; you ask me if it’s tender; you kiss me and touch me like I’m some kind of precious doll. 

It made me feel good, it made me feel clean.

But you’re not there in the morning.

Part of me knows why. You said you were a sailor, and that you have ports all over the world. You told me you’d take me riding someday.

It’s all right. You can leave. You can stay away as long as you need to. I know it takes awhile to come back to your port. I know that boats can take forever to come in, especially if they get blown off course by some unpredictable storm. But there’s always a lighthouse pulling you back, sucking you over the wave and home again.

Twelve to five, honey, every night, every day. I’m here. I’m here.

You know what to do if you want me. And I know you want me.

I know you’ll save me.

‘Cause you’re a nice guy.

The only nice guy in Las Vegas.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction uses characters from **Reno911** and **Burn Notice** , all of whom are the property of the **USA Network** and **Comedy Central**. No money was gained from the writing of this fanfiction and all are used under the strictures of of the Berne Convention.


End file.
